Candle
by kelinor
Summary: A mission leaves two members of SG-1 close to death. Complete. Rating for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Candle**

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Author's Note : Thanks to my lovely beta Naliza for checking this one over. Hopefully it's not too horrific :) Also, I'd like to make some shoutouts – to Kay (I'm not Daniel!) and to macisgate and iamari , for being such faithful reviewers of all my stories - hugs all round

* * *

_Out, out, brief candle - Life's but a walking shadow...._

* * *

Daniel turned, closing the door carefully behind him with a click and leaning his aching shoulders against it, closing eyes burning with fatigue. The faint scent of roasting coffee crept to his attention, barely discernable amongst the smells of disinfectant and unaired clean sheets that pervaded the corridors. A tug pulled at his stomach as he realised with a nauseating feeling that he hadn't eaten in the last thirty-six hours.  
  
And there's me thinking that I couldn't even go half a day without some coffee, he thought grimly, reaching up absently to rub his cheek, skewing his glasses slightly. Straightening them again he opened his eyes with a sigh. No time like the present for getting on with things.  
  
Hah.  
  
Letting a muttered curse slip out he pulled himself upright again and straightened his legs. He left a palm lingering flat on the green hospital door for a few heartbeats before resolutely taking a few steps away and catching the attention of a nurse hurrying past. After discovering where the cafeteria was, he slowly made his way to the lift.  
  
He had been a bit disconcerted to find himself sharing a lift with a two- star general, but it was a military hospital after all. The man ignored him studiously; Daniel shrugged and just stood there, wrapped up in his own thoughts. A slight beep announced that they were at the ground floor. The linguist jerked out of his reverie and headed towards the seating area where the fragrant smell wound around the hallways in the small hours of the morning.  
  
As he brought back his plastic tray, the food looking unappetising under the fluorescent lighting, he caught sight of a large dark-skinned man, sitting hunched around his drink, a dark beanie hat pulled firmly down around his ears. Changing direction, Daniel limped over and set the tray on the table, lightly touching the man on the shoulder.  
  
"Hey, Murray."  
  
"Daniel Jackson." The man's voice held a slight hint of surprise in his bland deep voice, he raised his head to look frankly at the Doctor. "I did not realise that you had left your vigil in the intensive care unit."  
  
"Janet kicked me out. Told me to get some food," Daniel said wryly, sliding the tray along the table and sitting opposite Teal'c.  
  
"I would surmise that she meant for you to take more than that," Teal'c nodded towards his tray. Daniel looked down at his meagre sandwich and large coffee mug.  
  
"I guess I'm not that hungry," he shrugged, picking up the mug and blowing gently across it to cool it down. "I see you only have water," he pointed out mildly.  
  
"I have been keeping my intake of food and drink regular," replied Teal'c with a slight hint of reproach. "Whereas I believe that you, Daniel Jackson, have not eaten anything since we returned from the field excursion."  
  
Daniel did not answer; instead his eyes flicked upwards in the direction of the room he had recently vacated. Teal'c transferred his own gaze to look critically at his friend.  
  
He obviously had not been eating and had very little sleep. His skin, apart from the fading purple bruise at the temple, was almost grey with fatigue and his eyes were downcast and tired. He had not shaved either and was still wearing the clothes he had thrown on angrily in the locker room, after having been forced to change out of his BDUs. Teal'c knew how concerned he had been, after all he felt almost exactly the same - but he also knew that his continued vigilance without taking care of himself would be detrimental to the situation.  
  
"Why could we not have dealt with this in our own infirmary?" Daniel broke the companionable yet strained silence as he fretted aloud for the umpteenth time that day. Teal'c tilted his head to the side.  
  
"You know our infirmary does not have the facilities to deal with the extent of the injuries sustained by so many."  
  
The unspoken thought passed between them that having sixty wounded aliens in the military hospital would not be good - there was no way that the Morkanians could be passed off as human. Therefore the injured humans of the SG teams had been moved offbase.  
  
It was Teal'c turn to break the thoughts.  
  
"Since you have left the room, may I inquire as to whether there has been an improvement?"  
  
Daniel sighed and swirled his coffee around listlessly before looking up with an edge of pain in his blue eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, Murray. Both Jack and Sam are still unconscious."

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	2. Chapter 2

> Chapter 2
> 
> * * *
> 
> The darkness begins to recede; memories wash over me in a flood of dull pain. It's like waking from a dream, to find yourself in a nightmare, cycling through, repeating events again and again and helpless to change the outcome every time.  
  
P7J-019.  
  
Once more I see the towering oak forests looming over the blistering clearings, heat striking my face around the welcome shade of the glasses and removing the chill of the Stargate. I look around; the bustle of SG-7 and 9 as they set up defences surrounds us and we move out of the way as SG- 3 come out behind us. I can see Daniel's eyes screwed up behind his glasses, and Teal'c stoically hefting his weapon as the Colonel gives the curt order to move out, and we again begin that trek towards the paltry camp.  
  
Bursts of memory-within-memory seemed to flash quicksilver through my mind as we jog towards the sound of distant fighting. The reason we were here appeared and I smile humourlessly. SG-6 had been tasked with overseeing the evacuation of the only survivors of the small, elf-like Morkanians; smart little beings with their large eyes and purple-tinged skin. Most of them had already been relocated to their chosen alpha site – anywhere free of the rampage of Ba'al.  
  
An image of laughing Major Keller appeared and then was gone amongst the chaos of the recall. He and his team had been doing sterling work, until earlier that morning. Literally hundreds of Jaffa had made their position – totally unexpectedly. Four men could not be expected to stem that tide alone... so we were the emergency back up.  
  
As the scene replays, I hear the Colonel's surprised curse and snap my head up. A column of Morkanians are pelting towards us, little faces blank with fear.  
  
"We are the last!" Mirei yells, the child-like scientist's expression showing nothing but determination to care for her people. "Flee for your safety!"  
  
"SG-6?" yells the Colonel in return, twisting partly round as the stream of refugees surround us.  
  
"They are dead! You must flee!" And the little alien is gone, leaving us to cover their rear as a roaring sound fills the air.  
  
And we're stumbling backwards, guns firm and steady but my arms are treacherously shaking as trees come crashing down in the path of an overhead destroyer flattens the landscape. Dead bodies strew the area, hot- eyed Jaffa pounding towards us. My finger tightens reflexively on the trigger, and then we're all firing, even white-faced Daniel.  
  
And we're running back towards the Gate, pausing every so often to turn and fire a volley into the pursuers behind us. We can hear the other teams shooting as well, the destroyer attacking our way out. And now we can see the blue circle in the distance where swift Morkanian legs have already taken most of them through the Gate. Still we run; every time the memory cycles I try and urge myself to run just a little faster, but still we're moving with treacle slowness.  
  
I hear a grunt beside me. Teal'c falls behind for a second, his jaw set – a staff blast has caught him on the calf. The Colonel swings round and yells for Daniel to help the tall Jaffa through the Gate.  
  
"Carter! Get your six over there with them! I'll cover!"  
  
His voice is strained, but his stance is firm. I'm about to comply, but some force sticks me to the spot – I can't believe I'm deliberately disobeying orders, but I can't leave him either. I'm caught in an agonizing dilemma – if I was given the choice again I still don't know what I would do.  
  
But the choice is taken from me.  
  
The destroyer pulls to a hovering halt above us, and I can't help glance up at its menacing bulk. But the team at the Gate behind us are far ahead – they've got the big guns up, the grenade launcher blasting and I'm sure that lucky hit was an engine or anti-grav booster, because the thing starts shaking internally. It's going to crash down on those Jaffa milling about behind us, I realise with faint triumph, leaving us to escape.  
  
And by this stage in the memory I'm screaming now, urging my triumph away, telling myself to move! But I can't. And the rings flick down with startling speed, a last act of the dying destroyer. The Colonel and I are trying to duck out of the way, but we're too slow – the familiar lurching feeling fills me and a bright light fills my eyes.  
  
The rings deposit us staggering on the tilted deck. The Colonel yells and opens fire on the five Jaffa who are staring at us with set staff weapons as the rings drop once more into the floor. And once again in that nightmare I feel the horrific wrenching and I spin around as the staff blast takes me full in the shoulder. But the adrenalin is pounding through my head until I can barely hear any more, and I dart to the opposite side from the Colonel, and with instinct born of working so close for so long, we can take out these confused alien sods. Your ship is falling apart! I want to call exultingly as the last one turns his indecisive face towards me. These soldiers are no match for us!  
  
And he hits the floor, and the Colonel swings round, checking for others. A blast has grazed his head and I can see blood starting to stream down the side of his face.  
  
"Carter! Get the rings!"  
  
And I know exactly what he means, and he stands in the middle of the room covering and I dash for the keypad. Faint surprise fill me as I realise I can't use my left arm, so I drop my gun and it swings around on its strap as my fingers tap laboriously across the symbols. Why can't I go faster? But there is no time to think as the nightmare sweeps on, and I throw myself into the middle of the rings before they slide up out of the floor. I stumble against the Colonel and nearly fall, but he grabs for my uninjured arm and holds me tightly upright as the light flashes across my vision.  
  
The memory jerks, and that moment stretches out endlessly, the pain, the panic, the rock steady form of my CO holding me up, supporting me like so many times before, just being there.  
  
Then the image vanishes in a whirl, and suddenly the rings stutter and fall away as we stumble to the grassy ground.  
  
But we're in shadow – why are we in shadow? – and he looks up, and the destroyer is tumbling slowly from the sky. And it hits the ground just beyond us with a shuddering rumble and roar, throwing the landscape crazily about it in its earthquake of destruction.  
  
I'm still conscious, I cannot move, I can barely feel the hard earth pressed against my cheek, I can see nothing but the form in front of me, sprawled in the wake of the crash. Dark eyes flicker open and meet mine, with a child's puzzlement, a gaze not understanding why we are here, and then he really sees me.  
  
And those brown eyes soften with our familiar exchange of glance, and I can think of nothing else.  
  
"Jack," I say through a bleeding lip, pleading in my tone.  
  
And he seems to smile faintly, and his white face dissolves into swirling blackness that encroaches from the sides, blocking my protesting view, and I scream soundlessly as oblivion claims me once more.  
  
Sweet, black, painless oblivion.  
  
But something urges me to remember.  
  
And the darkness begins to recede; the memories wash over me in a flood of dull pain. It's like waking from a dream, to find yourself in a nightmare.
> 
> * * *
> 
> TBC


	3. Chapter 3

> Chapter 3
> 
> * * *
> 
> Daniel knocked hesitantly on the green door and on hearing the weary answer slipped inside, closing it with a quiet click. He raised an eyebrow in a wordless question at the woman sitting in front of a desk. She ran a hand through her un-brushed auburn hair in a defeated gesture and shook her head.  
  
"No change yet, Daniel. Sam's still thrashing a bit, but doesn't appear to be coming out of it yet." She looked around, eyes unseeing for a few seconds before fixing a brighter smile on her face. "What about you? Did you get something to eat?" And the 'brisk doctor voice' was in her tone, worrying about yet another of her perennial patients.  
  
"Yup. And some coffee." A returning tired grin lit Daniel's face. "You?"  
  
"I've had a break in the last ten hours, you forget," she chided gently, turning back to stare at the charts in front of her. Daniel pushed his glasses back up his nose and wandered over towards the chair pushed between the only two occupied beds in the unit. Before he sank back into the familiar uncomfortable cushion, he paused to lean silently over his two friends, eyes searching their pallid faces.  
  
Sam's face was creased in a frown and her hair was damp and ruffled against the stark sheets. Every so often a small whimper escaped her, and she tossed her head restlessly. A stiff white bandage was wound tightly across her arm and shoulder and a fading bruise still decorated her cheek. As he continued watching her Daniel unconsciously reached up to test the tender skin around his own temple. After a little while he shook his head and turned around to look over at Jack.  
  
The Colonel's head was swathed in a rakish bandage across his forehead, but he was still, so still, in comparison with Sam. His brown arm with the IV tube lay limply on top of the covers, and his breathing was faint but calm. The heart rate monitor beeped steadily; Janet suspected possible brain damage from the staff blast and was therefore not taking any chances.  
  
Sighing, Daniel ensconced himself back in his chair, hands folded over each other as he took up his vigil again. Teal'c was a sporadic visitor; there was trouble on Chulak, and the Jaffa struggled to split his time between his friends of the Tau'rii and of his own kind. After a little while Janet got up from her desk, heels clicking in the quiet room as she crossed over to her patients to check the IV. Coming round to Sam's side, she paused suddenly, reaching over to place a hand on her patient's face.  
  
"What is it?" Daniel was instantly on his feet, watching Sam intently. The blonde woman turned her head restlessly, muttering something unintelligible that broke into an anguished tone before subsiding once more.  
  
"Does this mean she's waking up?" Daniel asked in a low tone.  
  
"It might mean that the only thing keeping her down now is the morphine," Janet replied, a faint smile gracing her face as she turned to read the chart. "We could probably start decreasing the dosage. I'm concerned about her restlessness."  
  
"Why? Is it a bad sign?"  
  
"It could be, and for now I'd prefer it if she didn't move that shoulder too much." The doctor reached up to unhook the IV bag, looking at it critically before replacing it and going to the phone. She requested a nurse to bring something complicated and medical that to Daniel was just a lot of meaningless words (a strange feeling for the linguist), and then returned. Whilst they waited, Sam's head moved more violently, and she briefly flickered open unseeing eyes.  
  
"Yes Sir!" she called out clearly, before dropping back still and sleeping. Daniel caught Janet's worried gaze as he looked up. As he was about to speak Sam yelped in fear and flung her hand to clasp her injured shoulder, muttering something fiercely.  
  
A nurse knocked and then entered quietly with several vials and another IV bag.  
  
"Excuse me... Doctor Frasier?" he said cautiously. Janet turned around with a brief glimpse of relief and the two medical personnel started dealing efficiently with the solution dosage.  
  
"... watch for the rings..." emerged another understandable phrase in Sam's now constant, fearful undercurrent of mumbling. Daniel closed his eyes on a sudden flashback of the planet, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see Jack and Sam snatched up by the destroyer's transporter. He wondered briefly whether Sam was reliving what had happened and he bit his lip unconsciously.  
  
"Five Jaffa, we can take them!" Sam said suddenly and confidently, causing Janet and the nurse to look sharply over. Daniel's face took on a mask of bewilderment. "She's babbling, right?" he asked concerned, the question in part real and in part to cover the fact that Sam was talking of classified material.  
  
"I believe so," replied Janet swiftly in a no-nonsense tone. She began to measure a dose of something, then turned and nodded with a smile to the nurse.  
  
"Thank you for your help," she said in a friendly tone that nevertheless implied dismissal. She then waited until the man had quietly left the room before continuing to measure.  
  
"Why...?"Daniel left the question hanging, vaguely curious. "Just because of Sam's talking?"  
  
"That, and because of this drug. It needs precise measurements, and unfortunately high levels of naquadah in the blood stream almost double its intended dosage. The nurse might have taken that as a miscarriage of professionalism on my part and reported it."  
  
"Oh." He had no reply to that. Janet held the hypo up critically to the light and squirted it slightly to remove the air bubbles before applying it to the IV tube. As she then reconnected the bag and smoothed the covers thoughtfully, her patient subsided slightly under her fingers. Then in a heart-stopping motion Sam stiffened, frozen still.  
  
"Jack? Jack!" she cried in a broken tone, before falling back limp against the pillow.  
  
The two watching over her exchanged a silent look before glancing over to where the Colonel still lay silent.  
  
Sam slept on.
> 
> * * *
> 
> AN: Sorry about the short chapter. Revision for A-levels is mega tough when you're doing Chemistry, Physics (specialising in cosmology) and Latin. scurries back to her books


	4. Chapter 4

> Chapter 4
> 
> * * *
> 
> This time the darkness held a different quality.  
  
The frozen imprint of his face etched into my vision slowly faded away into a dark red murkiness; I struggled in an attempt to keep the image from slipping away. A dull throbbing filled the air around me, gradually resolving into the aching thump of pain. But somehow I sensed that this pain was real, here and now, not something that was being relived.  
  
The dark background lightened slightly and I could hear a faint noise, like a radio from the window three blocks down the street, fuzzy and annoying, on the edge of hearing. I frowned slightly. It was so frustrating... I stretched every fibre of my being to reach through the sticky air, trying to understand what it was. Suddenly I recognised one voice as the sounds became more focussed.  
  
"Who...?"  
  
I tried to speak, but my face wouldn't seem to move and it struck me that at last I was no longer in that eternally replaying nightmare. Was I awake?  
  
"Janet?" the name of the person speaking sprang to my aching mind, and this time a faint sound escaped my lips.  
  
"Sam?" The immediate reply was gentle, but eager. I worked out that the dark red surroundings were the familiar inside of my own eyelids; I struggled to open them, to let the light back into my world. Another voice, a recognisable one, floated down, the words as yet unintelligible. But surely that was Daniel?  
  
Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, I managed to open my eyes. Light and memory collapsed down on me in sudden recall, and I cried out involuntarily. The nightmare! That had happened! And where was he...where was Jack?  
  
"Janet." I managed it better this time, fixing my gaze on her concerned face above me. "Where's Jack?"  
  
The man beside Janet moved slightly, smiling, pointing to my right. Thank you, Daniel!  
  
"Thanks, Daniel," I rasped out, trying to turn my head. If Jack was here as well... I guess his condition would not be much better than mine, but at least he was alive. Eventually I managed to fix my gaze on the white bed beside me. He's there. He's safe. And ignoring the steadily encroaching pain, I smiled, and drifted back towards a safer, dreamless sleep.
> 
> * * *
> 
> There was yet another rap at the door. Daniel yawned and got to his feet to answer it. The hospital door opened to admit Teal'c, who inclined his head politely to his friend before looking over towards the patients.  
  
"Good morning, Daniel Jackson, Doctor Frasier," he said, stepping into the room fully with an acknowledgement to the tired Janet. "I come bearing coffee and doughnuts," the Jaffa's face held a slight smile as he proffered the tray. As Daniel greedily took it from him, he walked over to where Sam was sitting dozing in a chair at Jack's bedside. Her skin still looked dreadfully pale against the bandages, but overall she appeared peaceful with her hand resting lightly on the still brown arm beside her. Slipping into the adjacent chair, Teal'c cleared his throat.  
  
"Major Carter," he said, tilting his head. She blinked slightly, then turned a weary smile to her big friend.  
  
"Teal'c, I'm glad you could drop by again," she replied, her blue eyes smiling even if the rest of her was not. "Have they found Bra'tac's nephew – what's his name, Int'ran - and his people?"  
  
"Indeed they have. I am however concerned of Ry'ac attentions on Int'ran's daughter," the Jaffa pretended to scowl before smiling minutely again. "But I am here to inquire after your own health, and that of O'Neill."  
  
"I'll survive, I think," Sam replied sadly as she glanced over at the unconscious man beside her. As an afterthought she suddenly remembered her hand still lay protectively on his arm and she removed it surreptitiously. "However, the Colonel still hasn't woken up..."  
  
"I see," Teal'c nodded impassively, his own eyes lingering on the man whom he felt was more than a brother. The thought that had been haunting him since they had returned hit him once more; he turned towards Sam with an unreadable expression.  
  
"Major Carter – I have not had the opportunity to thank you, and to express my apologies." Before she could answer the Jaffa plunged on. "If you and O'Neill had not been defending my escape, the ring transporter would not have had time to take you to the destroyer, and you both would not be so gravely injured."  
  
At the expression on his face, as close to miserable guilt as she had ever seen on him, Sam leant forward and placed her free hand on Teal'c's shoulder, her own face intense.  
  
"Teal'c, listen. You've saved our lives countless times, we've saved yours. And Daniel's who knows how many," she added with a twisted grin. "But it's what we do. We will always come back and fight for each other – the team never leaves someone behind. You know you would have done the same for me." She squeezed his shoulder gently and Daniel came up silently behind them as well, to chime in his agreement.  
  
"Sam's right, Teal'c. Don't beat yourself up over it," he said, clapping his friend on the back gently. "Think of all the times you guys have waited for me!"  
  
"You do have a talent for finding unfortunate moments, Daniel Jackson," admitted Teal'c, a small smile on his face. "However I cannot – "  
  
"Shush," Sam said firmly, well aware of how motherly that made her sound and making a small shooing gesture with her good hand. "Go eat doughnuts."  
  
Teal'c inclined his head deeply to her, then pushed back his chair. Staring for a moment at the still form of O'Neill, he headed over to the tray with Daniel beside him companionably. Sam watched the pair for a moment before turning her eyes to the man beside her, her face settling into an accustomed frown of pain and worry. Jack still slept, his breathing faint and shallow. She replaced her hand on his arm, leant over and whispered something to his unresponsive ear.  
  
In the corner, Janet silently watched.
> 
> * * *
> 
> TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

"Sam, honey, I really think you should sleep in your bed and not in the chair."  
  
Janet leant over her patient with a considerate touch to her uninjured shoulder. Sam jerked her head upright, unaware of the fact that she'd been sleeping. An automatic flick of her eyes confirmed the fact that Jack was still unconscious, and an almost visible slump in her shoulders showed her emotion clearly.  
  
"Okay, okay. If you insist, Janet, you're the doctor." She looked around for the ever-lurking shadow of Daniel, but he didn't seem to be there. "Where's Daniel?"  
  
"It's very late. I sent him to go and get some sleep. He was looking terrible without his coffee boost."  
  
Sam smiled slightly and struggled to sit upright. "What about the Colonel? Any improvement?"  
  
Janet's face showed a small hopeful grin. "I had to change the medication. He might wake up quite soon." He'd better, else he's in trouble, she thought sombrely as she assisted Sam over to the nearby bed, the blonde woman's sprained ankle still being very swollen. At her words Sam's eyes lit up.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Any time soon."  
  
"Don't make me go to sleep, not just yet," Sam pleaded.  
  
Her friend sighed. "Sam, I really think that - "  
  
A dry coughing broke her words. Leaving Sam sitting on the edge of her bed, the doctor flew to the side of her other patient.  
  
Jack was lifting his head slightly off the pillow, trying to stop coughing, drenched with sweat from a fever that Janet knew had not been there an hour ago. The Doctor laid a cool hand on his forehead to restrain his coughs, watching intently as he struggled to open his eyes.  
  
"That... you, Doc?" he rasped. Behind her Janet heard a thump as Sam knocked painfully against the chair in her efforts to cross the few feet between them. She didn't move her head.  
  
"Try and stay still, Colonel, don't cough if you can help it. Sam, sit down."  
  
"Carter?"  
  
Jack's head turned involuntarily, brown eyes searching the pale face of his 2IC that appeared behind Janet's shoulder.  
  
"I'm here, sir." She replied immediately.  
  
"I thought we were goners."  
  
"Appears not, sir," with that she smiled her first true smile since waking. Unfortunately Jack chose that moment to go into another extended fit of coughing, in between his spasms Janet shot a murderous look over her shoulder.  
  
"Sam. Bed."  
  
"Yes ma'am," she replied automatically, staggering backwards to sit on the edge of the hospital sheets, worried eyes fixed hungrily on the weakly struggling O'Neill.  
  
"Sam!"  
  
With a final curt order Janet turned back to her patient and with her free hand she pressed the button that would summon a nurse. This fever was unexpected; possibly even symptomatic of the brain damage she feared. She glanced inscrutably at the monitors beside her, their displays dancing across the screen. Nope, she didn't like this one bit.

* * *

Early morning sunlight glanced down across the white covers, throwing square patterns on the white sheets and across his arm. Jack stared a minute or so before realising that he was awake again, struggling he attempted to turn his gaze somewhere else. The next thing to come into view was the side table, with a thick cream candle smoking gently, as if it had just burned itself out. Just beyond this was a chair, complete with a sleeping occupant, shoved against the wall between this bed and the next one. He smiled slightly, shivered a little with cold or fever or something, he decided to attempt to speak.  
  
"Danny."  
  
The man sleeping in the chair closed his mouth with a snap, blinking as he raised his head. Pushing up his glasses, he focussed blearily on the voice. As he realised who was speaking a broad smile spread across his face.  
  
"Good morning, sleeping wonder," he whispered in return. "Jack, how are you feeling? Janet said you'd woken."  
  
"She was right, I hope, or this is some bizarre dream," he replied hoarsely, before starting to cough again. Daniel tried not to look too concerned as his friend subsided back into the pillows, trying to get enough air into his lungs, breathing shallowly at the same time.  
  
"You want me to fetch the nurse? Janet's off-shift," Daniel offered, half rising, but Jack waved him weakly back down.  
  
"Nah, nah, don't worry. I'm fine now." The Colonel sighed, his breathing returning to normal slowly. Another thought occurred to him, he fixed Daniel with a stare.  
  
"Where's Carter? She alright?"  
  
"Just there, Jack," Daniel indicated behind him, moving so that the patient could see the sleeping face in the next bed. "She'll be fine. No, it's you we're worried about," he allowed humour to creep into his tone, hiding the stark truth in his statement. "She's been awake too, watching you most of the time, when Murray and I can't be here."  
  
Jack wondered briefly about Daniel's use of the pseudonym, but then he realised that since Janet was off-shift, there must be someone else in the room. He shook his head irritably as if to clear his vision. He was so cold... "I know she's been awake. I saw her earlier," he continued, not wanting to worry Daniel. "How is Murray? His leg healed?" The archaeologist gave him an odd look.  
  
"You've been here over a week, Jack. He heals fast," Daniel replied in a low tone, stepping forward to lean against his bed. Jack blinked.  
  
"A week?"  
  
"About that. No, Murray's just fine. He has some...family problems, but he has been here." Daniel gestured deprecatingly towards the candle in its glass holder, keeping the fire risk low. "He left you one of his meditation candles. Janet wasn't going to let it be lit, but he argued, and c'est ici." At Jack's familiar mask of blankness, Daniel reiterated. "Here it is. Now, is there anything I can get you?"  
  
"A trip to Burger King would be great. Otherwise, I don't think so," he grinned again before closing his eyes. He began shivering again, uncontrollably; he tried to hide the fact under the thin sheets. Daniel had turned away though for a moment as he saw Sam stirring.  
  
"Good morning Sam," Daniel said genially, stretching himself, easing out the cricks caused by sleeping in a chair.  
  
"Morning Daniel," she replied sleepily. "The Colonel?"  
  
Jack felt a smile creep over his face at her query. She was barely awake and already inquiring after him...  
  
"He's awake too. I would say that you're both going to get better at this rate!" Daniel smiled and looked over. "Oh yeah, do you two mind if I light Murray's candle again? He said that since he couldn't be here all the time, perhaps it might help." The archaeologist shrugged and yawned. "Maybe it's a foreign custom we haven't come across yet."  
  
"Fine by me."  
  
"Sure, go ahead."  
  
As Daniel wandered over to the table, Sam slowly sat upright and unsteadily swung her legs across the bed to get out. She limped over towards Daniel's chair, sinking into the uncomfortable cushion and letting a gentle smile creep over her face.  
  
"How're you feeling, sir?"  
  
"Like someone hit me with a very, very big truck."  
  
"Not too far off the truth then," she replied with a smile. Jack tried to wrestle his fuzzy brain around the statement. Come to that, why was he here? He knew that they'd been hurt somehow, off-world, that was it. Oh yeah, the destroyer ship! Eventually coming up with this conclusion, he grinned in return.  
  
"What about you, Carter?"  
  
"Oh, I'll be fine."  
  
Talk subsided for a moment; instead they just watched each other, perfected wordless communication passing between them. Daniel, having lit the candle, glanced over to see if the pair were all right. At the intenseness of the gazes, he raised his eyebrows and then walked nonchalantly away, trying not to look again. He felt like he was intruding on some private conversation just by watching.  
  
Eventually their silence was broken by Jack turning his head irritably to cough again, struggling to breathe with tearing shallow gasps. The duty nurse stood up to come over, Daniel turned hurriedly to come and stand beside the still form of Sam. He laid a comforting hand on her uninjured shoulder, trying to transmit his strength and sympathy as her eyes never left the Colonel's face. Her hand crept up and clung almost desperately to his wrist.  
  
"Daniel, he'll be alright." Her words, the archaeologist realised immediately, were for her own consolation and conviction, not his. He squeezed her shoulder gently.  
  
"I know, Sam."

* * *

AN: Only another few chapters to go. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, keep 'em coming! And extra thanks to Naliza for beta'ing for me hugs

Kitty


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

Daniel stared uncomprehendingly at the scene in front of him, so different from when he left scant hours ago. He partly moved forward, aching to be closer, but then he checked his step with a bitter sigh. Instead he just watched for the opportune moment.  
  
The dimly lit ward room seemed brighter, but only a little, light from the low-burning candle throwing flickering shadows in a pool around the bed, glancing reflections from the tubes and wires affixed in various places to his friend. Sam sat beside the quiet figure, her slender form still and silent, her blonde head leaning close to her friend's. Daniel could see that Jack's head was turned slightly towards her, his mouth moving with inaudible words that he knew were for one person only. His heart tore within him; this wasn't happening, couldn't be happening. Janet looked up from her analysis of the charts spread in front of her, and walked quietly over to the transfixed form of the archaeologist. She touched his arm gently, motioning him to come over and sit down.  
  
"Why... why is this happening?" Daniel asked in a low tone, confused and worried to his very core.  
  
"We don't know," and a hint of anguish crept into Janet's tone, "but for some reason his body rejected the ordinary, normal drugs we were using. It makes no sense. And now he's taken... a downward turn."  
  
Daniel could say nothing but shook his head. "Have we tried the Tok'ra?"  
  
"We get a 'busy' signal. We can't even contact them." Janet replied bitterly. "They're under orders at the base to keep attempting contact every two hours until we get something."  
  
Daniel's hands scrunched up as he watched Sam's pale and drawn face, whispering something intensely, too low for them to hear. Janet followed his gaze.  
  
"The Colonel asked to speak to Sam alone." It was a blank statement she made, not expecting any answer, nor receiving any, except the slight nod of Daniel's head. The archaeologist decided that he would not break the conversation; but as soon as they had finished he would be right there. Hell, everyone had been there at his bedside when he died – NO! Jack was not going to die. He set his face into a stubborn expression, emotions swirling haywire around his head. Eventually he spoke.  
  
"We have to contact Teal'c."  
  
"He's on his way already," Janet said, suddenly busying herself with the charts and staring at them with defeated frustration. Daniel sat down stiffly on the edge of the hospital chair, watching his friends' every movement.  
  
"Well, Carter, looks like this old soldier might be leaving you," Jack said hoarsely, conversationally. Sam leant forward in her chair, resting her elbows gingerly on the coverlet, scanning his face with an intent blue gaze.  
  
"Don't be stupid, sir," she said firmly, the harsh words belied by her insistent tone. "You've been through worse before. The Tok'ra will be turning up soon. Dad and his healing device. You'll see."  
  
"Carter, don't humour me," he replied, smiling gently. "I heard Janet too. I'm not deaf yet. They're not coming."  
  
"Listen, for goodness sake!" Sam's voice rose slightly, her voice passionate and the closest to tears that Jack had heard in a long time. "You can't give up now. Fight it, dammit! I know the man you are, we've been through too much to fall at a lousy waypoint. You still have so much to do with your life."  
  
"Carter, I - "  
  
"Please, hear me out, sir. You have to keep fighting, to the last. We're all here for you, always. Daniel's will be up in a minute, and Teal'c should be over in about an hour. Then we'll all be here. Janet will think of something, even if it does only tide you over until the Tok'ra get here. We'll pull you through, you have to live." Her steady litany was almost desperate, her violet gaze pleading and drowning in his warm brown stare. She was cut off by a wavering hand, brought up to gently touch her cheek.  
  
"Hush, Carter."  
  
"You have to live," she repeated, strongly, convincingly, with only the slightest of breaks at the end. Her hand reached up to hold his against her face. "Jack, you have to get through this." Her voice dropped barely above hearing, and she dropped her gaze to the white sheet. "I need you too badly."  
  
His rough finger brushed gently across her cheek. "You know, I never thought I'd hear someone as self-possessed as you say that," his faint voice came, tender, protective, 'their' special tone but with so much more depth. Sam brought her obstinate face up to look at him once more, her firm expression only given away by the unshed tears standing crystalline in her eyes. Jack drew in a laboured breath and smiled again.  
  
"I'll live... if just for one reason, Sam. You."  
  
She clasped his hand on her cheek wordlessly, the hidden love and devotion that she had harboured so long etched into every fibre of her being. His tender brown gaze took in her every feature, weary face smiling at last. Those silent words never had to be spoken; they had known it too long to really deny it.  
  
Beside them, the overflowing candle sputtered and flickered, burning all the stronger as it used the last of its strength. Eventually, with a final flare of yellow-gold light, it subsided and went out, wick still smoking, clear pools of wax still warm.

* * *

Jacob strode through the gate, staring around at the swarming airmen in the embarkation room. He'd obviously come in in the middle of a mission preparation – but that wasn't why he was here. His hand tightened on the device in his pocket, and he nodded to the captain who was saluting stiffly.  
  
"General Carter? General Hammond wants to see you in the briefing room." Jacob frowned and nodded, noting the many impassive, busy faces, completely preoccupied. And George normally at least came to see him. Jacob speeded up his step, following the familiar route around up into the control room and then up the stairs. Daniel and Teal'c were sitting already at the briefing table, staring at the black and red wood. Daniel had his head in his hands, and Teal'c was as always expressionless. Of course... there must have been an emergency on the base, and they were upset at being called away from their friend's bedsides.  
  
A fist seemed to clench in his stomach. Maybe one of them had got worse... his little girl... As he stood uncertainly at the top of the stairs, General Hammond came out of the office. Jacob stared disconcertedly at him.  
  
"Jacob, Selmak. Have a seat. Thank you, airmen, you may go."  
  
Hammond gestured to the two airmen, and they silently left. Jacob slowly took the seat next to Daniel, staring at Hammond's lined face. He seemed to have aged several years in a short time, and his skin seemed almost grey. Stress and worry were etched into his features, and Jacob spoke up. "I have the device, George. Are they in our infirmary? A military hospital? How's Sam?"  
  
A million questions seemed to tumble out of him, and Selmak silently reprimanded him and told him to school his thoughts. Speaking would be easier that way.  
  
"Major Carter is recovering," said Teal'c impassively. "She is at the military hospital. She was not allowed to leave for the base emergency." In his lap he ran a testing finger over the bruised and swollen knuckles of his hand, his gaze never leaving his fingers as he spoke.  
  
"At least she's well enough to want to go back to duty," said Jacob, trying to make a feeble joke but failing in the silent aura of the room. He cleared his throat. "I still have the device. I came as soon as I got word, but you understand how it is, the base is always moving - "  
  
Daniel spoke for the first time, not raising his head from his hands. "It always is with you, isn't it? Fine allies you are. Whenever there's an emergency and you want our help, fine, ring at the door and we'll help you out. But when we want your help, oh no. The Tok'ra are always too busy for us poor suckers on Earth."  
  
"Look, Daniel - " Jacob started to say, but the linguist cut across him harshly.  
  
"We've put our lives on the line how many times for you Tok'ra? Jack, even though he was never too happy with you, nevertheless tried his damn best to help out. But you don't help him, do you? We waited over a week to even get hold of you! You just don't care!" His voice rose in accordance with his increasingly angry voice.  
  
"Doctor Jackson, that's enough," said General Hammond sharply. Daniel swung round suddenly in his chair, raising his head and revealing his angry, tear- stained face. He started to his feet, and grabbed Jacob's collar.  
  
"No, I don't think that is enough! I'm fed up with this shit treatment we get! Jack was right when we said we should wait to put our trust in you. He tried. God dammit, he waited! And now he's dead because of it! You arrogant, heartless bastards!"  
  
He yelled angrily, bringing back his other hand to swing at Jacob's head. The Tok'ra caught his fist in a strong grip, and Teal'c was there, holding his friend's shoulder, pulling him slightly away.

Jacob swung round to stare at General Hammond.  
  
"He's...."  
  
"Colonel Jack O'Neill... died, at 06:30 this morning," said General Hammond impassively, his words as grey as his face.  
  
"You're too bloody late to help now, Tok'ra," spat Daniel, as Teal'c spun him around with painful fingers. "You're too late." Fresh tears began to run down his already stained face as his voice sank into a whisper, his shoulders shaking violently. Teal'c looked up at General Hammond, his face unreadable.  
  
"Dismissed. Teal'c, please take him to calm down and then report to the infirmary to do something about your hand before we go through the gate."  
  
"My hand is fully functional, General Hammond," replied Teal'c curtly, heading for the side door.  
  
"Teal'c, don't give me this as well. I order you to get that hand strapped before you go on duty."  
  
"No." And Teal'c left the room, pushing an incapacitated Daniel before him. Hammond sighed, and sat down, taking a deep breath and staring at the table. Jacob, who had sat frozen throughout the whole exchange, finally found his voice.  
  
"George, I'm so sorry."  
  
"Well, we all are, and let's leave it at that."  
  
A million more questions still raced through Jacob's head, but his own grief had not yet got the better of his shock.  
  
"How... did he die? Perhaps a sarcophagus..."  
  
"He died from a massive unexplained brain haemorrhage. Doctor Fraiser did everything she could. Sarcophagus technology is no longer an option."  
  
"My God. I... wish I could have come sooner."  
  
"We can't change the past, Jacob," and if Hammond's voice was slightly sharper than usual, it was only to be expected.  
  
"Can I go and see Sam?"  
  
"There is nothing stopping you, Jacob. I'll get Major Davies to direct you." Hammond got to his feet again, and headed for his office. "Meanwhile I must get this emergency sorted out. Time is short." And with the briefest of nods in Jacob's direction, he left the room, leaving Jacob Carter sitting numbly at the briefing room table in an empty, silent room.

* * *

"Jacob?"  
  
The man in question turned slightly from his contemplation of the lift buttons as he heard his name called. Daniel advanced hesitantly up the hall, dodging a hurrying airman and coming to stand beside Jacob.  
  
"Daniel."  
  
"Look, Jacob, I'm sorry about what I said. I... wasn't thinking too straight."  
  
Jacob stayed silent a while before replying. "Apology accepted, Daniel. And I'm sorry as well." He rocked back on his heels a bit, the silence uncomfortable as Daniel remained beside him.  
  
"So... what was wrong with Teal'c's hand?"  
  
Daniel laughed shortly. "He punched a door."  
  
"Will it be okay?"  
  
"The steel reinforcement needs replacing."  
  
"I meant his hand."  
  
"He's Teal'c. He heals."  
  
With that enigmatic reply Jacob cleared his throat and stared again at the lift door. Daniel looked at him and realised that he was wearing civilian clothes.  
  
"Going to see Sam?"  
  
"Yes. I hope she's all right."  
  
"I don't think she'll want to see you."  
  
Daniel's words hurt inside Jacob's already confused soul, and he turned to look at the now impassive archaeologist.  
  
"Whyever not?"  
  
Daniel nodded up at the lift as the doors slid open, and did not look at Jacob. When he did speak his words were quiet and intense.  
  
"You're too late to save the man she loved from dying. I think that might hurt just a little bit, don't you?" And Daniel turned on his heel and ghosted off down the hall as the lift doors closed on a gaping Jacob.

* * *

The world outside the window is sunny. Cars draw up in the lots outside, children are playing with a ball in the gardens across the street. Nothing seems to have changed.  
  
The world seems to face at the edges, becoming silent and greyer as it crumples in on me. Everything has changed, I scream silently inside my pounding head. Visions flicker across my mind, fixing and freezing on one scene, reminding me of that nightmare before I awoke. But this time, so different.  
  
Him.  
  
His hand lying on the cover as he brought it up to clasp my own, the tender words between us searing like fire, that at the time was bright with hope that now burns with painful touch and ashes.  
  
And his eyes fixed on my own, and that slight smile as he drifted into sleep.  
  
I watched as he never woke up.  
  
I am the one who died today, died a thousand times inside whilst those around me cry.  
  
I cannot cry. It is too much. Tears alone cannot heal the tearing rent that gapes in my soul. But I have to carry on. Too many people need my help. But they no longer talk to a living person.  
  
I am the one who died today.

* * *

The End. I'm not writing any more. 


End file.
